Shadow
by valele
Summary: I had always been in Tess Tyler's shadow, but it was time I stepped out.
1. Prologue

**Saying that's it's been a while since I uploaded something is an understatement. I'm so sorry, guys! I've been flooded with stuff and have had no time to write. Trust me when I say I'm happy to be writing again. Anyway, this was originally going to be a one-shot, but I figured that I could try and be original with one of the few (if not the only) Peggy-centric full-length.**

Shadow

I don't know why, or how, things in life happen. I don't know what brought me to where I am right now; I don't know how I could've gotten so lucky. All I know is I never saw this coming and that the last person I'd ever expected to thank was the very same one I was thanking today: Teresa Sinclair Tyler.

It really all started with her. Before Tess, I was Margaret Dupree, quiet girl who rarely spoke. But when Tess came (or more like burst) into my life, I was suddenly Peggy Warburton (Dupree was apparently a boring last name), one of the "It Girls." How had that happened? I could tell you the short and sweet version, but what's the fun in that?

I met Tess the first day of second grade. She was the new girl everyone was talking about, the glamorous new girl who strutted into the classroom wearing all pink. Since it had been established that I was the resident shy girl, no one even tried to be my friend anymore. Second grade is a tough grade, because everyone's got their cliques and if you're not in, you're just not in. And me? I wasn't in. I was the farthest from in possible. It was because of this that, in a class of 29 (then 30), the only empty seat was the one next to me.

When Tess sat down next to me that day, she decided that I was going to become her little charity project. We found Ella soon after, and just like that, a friendship was born. This friendship… It may seem hard to believe, but it really was a friendship. We actually got along and had sleepovers and gossiped and played with our dolls and shared clothes. I'd never been happier before. _Ever_.

Then, things changed.

First day of music class, third grade. All of us were anxious to meet the new teacher, who was rumored to be a famous actress (or an astronaut, but Ella never got her gossip straight). Our old teacher would just give us something resembling an instrument and tell us to play it as we listened to some music, so everyone was curious to see what the new teacher would be like; especially Tess.

Tess wanted to be a singer because her mommy dearest was one, and on that first day, she was more anxious than I'd ever seen her. "I'm going to sing," she had said, taking out her little compact mirror (a permanent attachment, as I later learned) and checking her lip-gloss. "I'm going to sing just like my mommy and I'll be a superstar!"

Yeah, well, she didn't sing. Ms. Latta, our quirky new teacher, didn't like show-offs, so when she asked the class who wanted to sing for her, she picked the person who least wanted to: me. Go figure, right?

I can sing. My mom was a Broadway actress, famous for her incredible vocal range and versatility, and my grandmother had been an opera singer before her. I can most definitely sing. Now, that I can sing doesn't mean I actually _wanted_ to, so of course I didn't raise my hand, which, of course, meant Ms. Latta picked me.

Now, something else you should know about me is that I can't lie. It's just not physically possible for me to look someone straight in the eye and tell them something that isn't the truth. So when Ms. Latta asked me if I could sing, I said yes, and she clapped her hands twice and said, "Great!" She motioned for me to stand up and sing anything, and I knew as soon as I opened my mouth that nothing good would come out of this.

Nothing good came out of that, of course. That day is the last day I can remember Tess treating me like her friend and not her loyal follower. After that day, I became her backup singer, her minion, her subject. I was competition, and if I strayed too far, I'd be a threat.

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer" is the best possible way to describe Tess. Ella, though you might not know it, is a better singer than Tess and I combined, and she can dance like a pro, too, but none of it matters, because through the years, Tess has criticized and belittled her so much, Ella honestly believes she's the worst singer and dancer ever.

Our first summer at Camp Rock was coincidentally Connect 3's last. They were signed by the end of the summer, but even before that, they were the most popular guys at camp. Shane, Nate, and Jason… Who didn't know who they were? No one, that is. Virtually everyone in Camp Rock knew their names, instruments, and even more.

At Camp Rock that summer, I had every class with Tess except for one. While she took the class everyone else was taking with that year's celebrity instructor, I was taking Music Composition and Songwriting – a class I'd signed up for but had told Tess my mom was making me take. (What would she have said to me otherwise?)

There were four of us in that class. Two girls whose names I don't remember and Nate Black. On the first day of class, I showed up ten minutes early, excited and anxious and nervous, all in one. Not because I knew Nate was there, of course not. Just because this was the one class where I could really be myself and not Tess' follower, which was obviously a relief.

When I walked into the classroom that day, I was faced with the decision of where to sit. I could sit anywhere I wanted – not just because of the lack of actual people in the classroom, but because Tess wasn't there to tell me where to sit. _Finally free_, I thought. _Finally, finally, finally_.

I took a seat right in the front of the class, just because I wanted to, next to the most beautiful piano I'd ever seen. A minute later, Nate Black himself came in and set his stuff down before walking over to the piano. "This is an antique," he said to no one in particular. "It's European."

I looked up, surprised. He hadn't even noticed I was in the classroom. "How can you tell?" I asked quietly.

Nate looked at me suddenly, with inviting brown eyes, seeming to have realized just now he wasn't alone. "European pianos always seem more elegant and majestic," he explained.

I nodded. "Hi, I'm Margaret," I said, smiling politely at him while inside, I was screaming "Why did you tell him your name was Margaret?" No one has called me that for years, and even I was surprised to hear myself say that. Nate nodded and sat at the piano stool.

"I'm Nate," he said, playing a soft melody on the piano. "Do you play?" he asked simply.

"Somewhat," I answered, listening closely to the music he was playing. "Did you write that?"

Nate nodded, then stood up. "Did you want to play?" he asked. "I kind of took over, didn't I?"

I shook my head. "No, it's okay, I'm really not that good," I said, "and besides, you're way better."

"Thanks," Nate said, sitting down on his chair. After a couple of minutes of awkward silence, I stood up, unable to resist the urge to touch the piano. My fingers lightly touching the keys, I played a song that had been on my mind lately, some top 40 song or some other.

Nate looked up sharply. "I know that song!" he exclaimed. "That's my favorite song at the moment." He sat back down, his face flushed. "Sorry," he added, looking sheepish.

"I really like it, too," I said, smiling as I kept playing it. "You wanna play it with me?"

Nate smiled at me and stood up, sitting next to me on the stool. I started playing the intro and he followed, adding in as he went. When the singing part started, Nate sang softly but nudged me.

"This is the girl part," he said, still playing the song.

I sighed but started singing anyway, looking over at Nate to gauge his reaction, only to see him gaping at me. I ignored it and continued singing, nudging him when it was his turn. Nate started to sing along with me and it was my turn to gape. He was definitely one of the best singers I'd ever heard.

Nate grinned at me and we went back to the piano and the singing. When the song was over, I was about to congratulate him when clapping interrupted me. "Bravo," a voice called out from the back of the room.

Nate and I turned to look at the person. "Hey, I'm your teacher," a guy who looked about thirty said, smiling at us. "My name is Brown."

"I know who you are, Brown," Nate said, rolling his eyes. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I've known you since I was seven, which would be about eight years now." So he was fifteen? I was fifteen!

Brown laughed. "Well, I know this talented young lady over here doesn't," he said, smiling at me now.

"Hi, I'm Margaret," I said shyly.

"Nice to meet you, Margaret," Brown said, smiling at me. He had a nice, Australian accent. "Now, tell me – where did you learn to sing like that?"

I blushed. "My mom and my grandmother taught me," I said, looking down.

"Well, they must be amazing singers, because you sure as hell know how to sing," Brown said, then looked sheepish. "You didn't hear that."

Nate chuckled. "Sure we didn't, Brown," he said.

And that, people, was how the summer when I fell in love with Nate Black started.

**So, what'd you all think?**


	2. Chapter 1

**I'm trying to be responsible and consistent and stuff, so even though I just posted the prologue, I wanna post the first chapter soon. This is a very impulse-y full-length – my friends Kana and Bonnie convinced me to make it one – so now here I am, writing my first full-length in a while. Wish me luck?**

Chapter 1

"Camp Rock, here we come," Tess said, grinning widely as she got into the limo. "When we get there, I want us to run through the number once more. We _have_ to win this year, girls."

Ella sighed, and I rolled my eyes. "Because we haven't done it enough?" I whispered to Ella when Tess was preoccupied by yelling at the driver. Ella giggled but shut up as soon as Tess turned around.

"Laughing at your own jokes again, Ella?" Tess said dryly. For about the ten-thousandth time that day, I resisted the urge to strangle her.

Tess, Ella and I were returning for our third summer at Camp Rock, and Tess was determined to win Final Jam this year, for several reasons including that Connect 3 wasn't there anymore and we were the second best, and that her mom had just gotten three more Grammys that year and had spent most of the year touring, making Tess more determined than ever.

After eight years of being Tess' friend, I knew how she worked. Tess wasn't the kind of person to relish some healthy competition – Tess was the kind of person to make sure she had _no_ competition. Sad as it was, her two best friends (Were we even that?) were her worst competition, which meant she had to keep us close and make sure that our talents would never shine through.

Numerous times a day, I asked myself why I still was friends with her. My friendship with Tess was nothing more than Tess being a bitch to us and Ella and I following her obediently – sure, we had been the most popular girls in the grade since we became her friends, but was it worth it? Pretty much slaving away for her, standing in line for her at lunch and "helping her study" and singing backup for her instead of actually showcasing our own talents.

Was this fair? No. Was it enjoyable? Hell no. Were we going to do anything about it? Uh, no. Could we even do anything? What was there to do that would guarantee us a Tess-free life? Nothing, that is. It was a sad thought, but there really was no other way.

Ella and I were pretty much a part of Tess now. We were her posse, her minions, "Tess' two friends." It wasn't a lifestyle by choice. It wasn't our best option. But to us, it was our _best_ option.

"No, Ella, you're doing it all wrong!" Tess shrieked as we practiced "2 Stars" again for the fourth time since we'd gotten to Camp Rock.

"I'm not!" Ella tried to defend herself. "You said do this, and I did that!"

I groaned to myself. "Here we go again," I muttered as I saw Tess get angrier and angrier. If there was thing Ella needed to learn was that she should stop making Tess so angry and just go along with everything. Sometimes, being friends with her felt like being someone's puppet, but as the coward I am, I'd much rather be someone's puppet than get on Tess' bad side, especially after seeing everything she's capable of doing to these poor people who dare enrage her.

Again, I must ask. Why were we her friends? Why would we put up with all the crap we got from her we could just as well stop talking to her and save us all this pain and hurt and everything else that comes with being her friend?

Part of me wants to say it's because there's no one else I could be friends with, and another part of me wants to say comfort and safety (though that'd be somewhat ironic), but I do know deep down why. I know exactly why Ella and I put with Tess and her cruelty and are still friends with her.

Alright, you wanna know why?

Sure you do.

The thing is, Tess was, somewhere deep in her heart, a sensitive person, and even though really thinking about it, it sounds completely ridiculous and unbelievable, it's true. Tess has to deal with her mom treating her the way she treats us, except her mom is, well, _her mom_. I mean, can you imagine your mom, instead of teaching you to share with your friends and all that, she's telling you to get what you want, no matter the cost.

Yes, I wouldn't want to teach that to my kids either.

So, see why Ella and I need to be her friends? Because no matter the way she treats us, she still needs us. She needs us when she calls at one in the morning because her mom just yelled at her for looking fat. She needs us when she feels convinced her singing is terrible and she'll never get anywhere in life and be a failure.

I've seen her cry, people. Yes, Tess Tyler is capable of shedding tears. Now, what kind of heartless person could abandon someone when they need you so badly? I mean, Tess is a bitch, and yes, she's meaner than anyone I've ever met before, and yes, she never treats us very nicely, but she's our _friend_. I don't know what that word means to you, but to me, it means being with someone through everything and anything.

I looked at Tess sadly, feeling frustrated but mostly just… bad. The same way I feel almost every time I have one of these deep-thinking moments and realize how much Tess has to go through, when I realize I at least have parents and a little sister who loves me, and a passion for something I know I can do, and no one belittling me so much it gets to be traumatizing (although Tess comes close sometimes).

"Come on, Ella, let's do it again," I said, placing a hand on her arm and smiling at Tess softly. "Practice makes perfect, right?"

Tess rolled her eyes arrogantly. "Like you two will ever be perfect," she said, scowling at us. I resisted the urge to punch her, all the understanding I felt for her a second ago gone.

"At least we're good people," I shot back, taking Ella's hand and leading her out the door. "We'll be back later when you're willing to treat us like human beings."

Ella started sobbing soon after we went out the door, and I lead us to the closest place we could sit. "Shh, Ella, sweetie," I said softly, putting an arm around her. "It'll be okay, hon."

"Why is she so mean?" Ella whispered brokenly. "I'm a good dancer, aren't I? Wasn't I doing the choreography correctly?"

"You were, Ella, you were," I assured her. Ella just started crying harder against my shoulder as I stroked her hair softly. I sighed and looked at the setting sun by the dock, my gaze wandering the quiet camp. I noticed someone walking our way and braced myself for another explanation ("She's fine, really. No one died, I promise. Really, don't worry about her. I've got it covered.") only to look into the warm brown eyes I knew so well.

Those warm brown eyes that belonged to Nate Black.

**--**

**So… How was that? I've become increasingly disturbed by the fact that a lot of people consider my story cute, which, guys, means I'm making it a little angstier.**

**Capisce?**


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